


Mister Kim, thou art le connard!

by isolated_killer



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Pride and Prejudice References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-11-09 00:01:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isolated_killer/pseuds/isolated_killer
Summary: Prejudiced Mister Do finds proud Mister Kim an impossible peacock, or what if Elizabeth Bennet was a man.





	Mister Kim, thou art le connard!

**Author's Note:**

> Appearances by the Honourable gentlemen as such: Mr. Kyungsoo Do as Ms. Elizabeth Bennet /Mr. Jongin Kim as Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, additional appearances by Mr. Chanyeol Park as Mr. Charles Bingley / Mr. Baekhyun Byun as Ms. Jane Bennet. Special appearance by Ms. Yoora Park as Ms. Caroline Bingley.

_If Do Kyungsoo had ever dreamed about being in a situation of those levels of indecency and decadence breaching ridicule and trespassing any sense of shame, it obviously had had to be a nightmare._

_Not that he could force himself to deny his own feelings, unable to think about the opinion of public eye or what his mother had to say or how incredibly wrong they were for doing something so sinful as Jongin pressed cold fingertips into Kyungsoo's sweaty neck, his lips trembling against the young man's mad pulse point as they carefully held each other behind tightly closed doors._

There was Kyungsoo two mere years ago, at the very start of their long and rocky journey, wearing one of his finest suits, surrounded by his insufferable sisters and mother, pushed and elbowed right in front of their new wealthy Park neighbors at the ball hosted by the generous _Aristoi_.  


His awful female siblings insisted on acting superbly annoying when the news of the Cheongdamdong Park sale had broken out, driven by hopes to get themselves married to the only heir of the Parks, rumoured to be not only quite rich but exceptionally handsome as well. Their father, after having been bombarded with pleas, accusations, and threats, finally gave in and paid an official visit to the Parks; that provided his family with an immediate invitation to the ball, to the euphoria of all Kyungsoo's sisters and mother. The old man spoke of two good-looking men and one fine lady who have come to inhabit the grand manor, igniting everyone's interest in the exact identity of the Parks' mysterious guest, bringing even more excitement at the prospects of scoring not one but two potential husbands.

Back then, when Kyungsoo had neither interest in new neighbors or their guests, the boy had hoped to be left at home to study, provided he did not, in fact, require a husband who would "maintain him when his father's gone". Alas, the mother, a la "the Spawn of All Evil" as Kyungsoo and his sisters sometimes took to calling her, insisted he was in an absolute need to start his searching for a good-natured and well-mannered future wife, "and make sure her father makes at least 5 grand a year".

Who was Kyungsoo to try and deny such a fact that he loved balls. Ladies in beautiful gowns and gents in smart costumes, momentarily forgetting themselves as they danced earnestly, the only times when couples could show their feelings towards each other and lovers could openly flirt and be excused for the lack of etiquette. The evening was a pleasant addition to Kyungsoo’s otherwise dull continuous studying days with tutors and books, and by the time the third round of wine glasses had been served and his friend, Mr. Byun Baekhyun started winking at him across the hall room, Kyungsoo was feeling nice and fuzzy.

Alas, his happiness lasted no longer than fleeting minutes; Kyungsoo’s mother, the never tired Mrs. Do insisted they go up to the hosts themselves to greet them personally. Momentary weakness and Kyungsoo had missed his chance to disappear into the crowd, two of his sisters dragging him with delicate powerful fists on his expensive lapels. Seconds of pattering across the dancing room, stumbling over the occasional dancers’ feet, and they finally reached the small stage, which had been taken up by the elegant hosts. Kyungsoo silently thanked the heavens for his naturally emotionless face as, if he be any less stoic than usual, he would no doubt have found himself cringing at their new neighbors: one would have to look hard for a brother and sister more arrogant looking than the two at the side, towering over Kyungsoo's whole family like hawks.

Overly polite and saccharin introductions exchanged, and Kyungsoo discovered himself pleased (hardly) to learn that the Tall Man with arrogance written all over his face was, in fact, not a member of the fine Park family, but the rumoured closest friend to the family's son, Chanyeol. Thus, it was a true mystery how alike were Chanyeol's sister, lovely lady Ms. Park Yoora, and their guest in their poorly contained disdain at being surrounded by "peasants" such as them, the clumsy gentlefolks of counties.

Someone, probably Kyungsoo's babbler of a mother, proceeded to compliment the luxurious decor of the hall in copious amounts, not careful in her wish to please, her praises bordering on sounding unceremonious and fake. And as Chanyeol politely gave out occasional amicable interjections, nodding and smiling awkwardly at the overly talkative woman, the mysterious guest of honour next to him drilled Kyungsoo's mother with a look of obvious annoyance; his name was Mr. Kim Jongin, and if Kyungsoo dared judging by the overall brooding looks, the young man was as much a treat for the eyes, as he was an absolute nuisance as a companion at social gatherings.

That presumption proved to be truthful as Kyungsoo's sisters and mother were completely swept away by lively and energetic Chanyeol when the man had finally stricken the moment to distract the attention away from Kyungsoo's mother. He proceeded to describe the surrounding forests and gardens so smartly and fancily, sincere in his confessions to the newly acquired lands, charming his way into every present girl's heart in a natural and irrevocable way. Right behind him, as Chanyeol's ever present shadow, somber Kim Jongin stood, seemingly unperturbed at the prospect of never uttering a single word during the event, reminding an amused Kyungsoo of someone dramatically constipated.

“Will you be staying at the Cheongdamdong Park long?” “Surely, it is such a lovely place, we all would be very happy if you decided to stay here forever!” “Oh, this house has gotten so much more wonderful now that you have arrived!” Kyungsoo’s sisters chirped and twittered, expectantly looking at Chanyeol as he helplessly looked around, confused over who should be answered first, throwing desperate glances at his seemingly dominative sister.

“We shall be staying as much as required,” She retorted curtly, sounding detached and cool, her tone lordly, but practiced smile not faltering even for a second, making Kyungsoo unwillingly respect the lady of steel. Chanyeol eagerly nodded his agreement, relieved that he no longer had to find a way to please anyone, and opened his mouth to suggest to move down to join the majority of guests (possibly to spare himself of any more of the Do’s presence, and could Kyungsoo really blame him), when suddenly overly energetic Mrs. Do sprang up right before surprised Ms. Park Yoora with a determined if not devilish smile on her aging lips.

“Miss Yoora, have you met my dear son, Kyungsoo? He’s a lovely fellow who is about to finish his home studies; dare I say that he has been personally invited to go to the N Academy in Seoul, my dear genius,” and as the damned words continued to fall out of his mother’s mouth, tiny parts of Kyungsoo’s brain gradually shriveled and died, one by one. He stared at her, eyes widened, paled lips pursed in a daring attempt to stop himself from cursing her aloud. Ms. Yoora had acquired a sort of confused expression as she visibly struggled not to let distaste show on her face. She threw a single look down at Kyungsoo, giving him a stiff nod, the boy half a head shorter than herself, then so tactlessly offered as her possible party.

“Pleasure,” she croaked, her smile looking as pained as Kyungsoo’s reddened cheeks felt.

“It is a true honour to be able to meet you,” he gave her a deep bow, clearly apologetic (because his family is a disgrace), his pride stinging, and watched her briefly curtsey and throw a meaningful stare at Kim Jongin. Intrigued, Kyungsoo then dared to glance at the tall man as well, involuntarily surprised as the other’s heavy gaze appeared to be sizing him up. Brief moments of their staring at each other and Kyungsoo feeling strangely naked under the judging man’s attentive eyes, and then Kim Jongin simply nodded with chin in a way of tiny greeting. Kyungsoo found himself bowing in a habitual response and wondered why the way Kim Jongin had looked away seemed so hurriedly flustered.

Cue the skilled musicians who joined in on a merry melody of violins and cellos, jovially inviting the members of the Ball to fade into the fun of dancing pas and elaborate pirouettes. One of Kyungsoo's sisters had the unbelievable luck of receiving an invitation for a dance by Chanyeol himself (she had been the one closest to him at that moment, the fact to later be overlooked and made forgotten by Kyungsoo's mother in favour of building crazy plans to get one of her daughters married to the rich and handsome gentleman). Despite a particularly sharp elbow that had dug into Kyungsoo’s side, his mother’s “tender” effort at making him invite Ms. Park for the lively and bouncy _Tythe Pig_ , Kyungsoo had the advantages of speed and flexibility; minutes later found him finally breathing in relief in the company of his good friend Mr. Byun Baekhyun.

The young man looked radiant with his frill cravat, beige vest of silk and smart pastel tailcoat, positively tipsy either on the overall excitement of honoured guests in the ball room, or that fifth glass of wine he was holding, Kyungsoo could never tell exactly.

“What is the matter with you and your family, _mon ami_ , you can never stay in the shadows, always looking for attention,” Baekhyun joked, a poisonous smile on his thin lips, as Kyungsoo silently measured him with his eye, as if choosing which particular part of the boy’s sneering face he wanted to punch.

“Should you continue be as annoying and disrespectful, mate, I shall be fully excused to use my fists on you,” Kyungsoo prodded Baekhyun with his knuckle, making the young man cringe in evident pain.

“Better tell me of our new neighbors; what is the matter with them? How are they in person? How long are they staying? Who is the mysterious guest? He was rumoured to be very handsome, but what difference it makes when he stoops so much and looks like he drinks tears for breakfast,” Baekhyun's prehensile fingers grabbed onto Kyungsoo’s velvety sleeve as he pulled him in and hotly whispered into the other man’s ear, cheeks flushed pink; his blood had always rushed whenever he was about to hear brand new gossip.

“All of them are nothing much,” Kyungsoo replied, detaching Baekhyun’s fingers off the expensive material of his tailcoat, looking unamused and cold. Alas, Baekhyun did not move and expectantly stared, reminding Kyungsoo of a wild vulture in his sweaty anticipation. The man sighed in exasperation then, feeling forced to continue, "Mister Park seems nice but not a great thinker and Miss Park most definitely thinks everyone here is beneath her..."

"That thinking is definitely alike with yours, the two of you could have become close if only you were a foot taller," Baekhyun snorted in interruption and Kyungsoo gave his still half-filled glass a meaningful stare; Baekhyun coughed awkwardly then, clearly unwilling to spend the rest of such an important evening with a burgundy spot on his luxurious suit.

"And Mister Kim is one lovely fellow, kept silence throughout the whole discussion and successfully made everyone feel subject to his uncheerful "almightiness"."

"Oh, seems quite like a skill," Baekhyun sneered, nodding at Kyungsoo's words, as if the other said exactly that something that had been on his mind. Suddenly, his eye was caught by a scene unfolding behind Kyungsoo's back; his already sleazy smile then turned pure evil. "Well, _mon ami_ , we might not be maidens fighting for a precious heart of noble knight, but we sure should be prepared for the funniest of spectacles..."

As Kyungsoo turned to take a look at the elegantly decorated ballroom in its opaque candle light, he had to catch himself involuntarily snickering. The number of young ladies who were not dancing for the lack of partners of young age in the ball hall was not big; still, most of the girls, with partners or not, kept sending Mr. Kim Jongin’s way open meaningful glances full of earning, so alike in their attempts to reach him at least mentally, if not physically. Out of sudden, Kyungsoo felt obliged to give Kim Jongin the credit the man had been obviously asking for; the other's somber aloofness was simply fascinating.

The man stood not far to the right corner of the small stage which had been previously a residence for the hosts of the ball; Mr. Park Chanyeol had dropped a few of Kyungsoo’s sisters in favour of more significantly pleasant (in Kyungsoo’s opinion) parties, and Ms. Park Yoora, whose fruitless efforts to make Mr. Kim Jongin waltz had not been missed by disapproving female guests, was then surrounded by mothers and daughters of the county as all of them had undoubtful plans to get to the young bachelor through his sister. Kyungsoo returned his attention back to the tall stooping man and watched him as if he would inspect a deer cornered by dogs during a hunt; the animal scuttled, looking for a way to escape the trap, desperate to flee the scene of chase. Kim Jongin looked to be approaching the state of desperation as his eyes swept through the room without actually seeing people and things; he seemed to feel misplaced and uncomfortable.

All of sudden, their eyes met across the room; Kim Jongin surprised Kyungsoo by how fast he had gained his focus back, granting the younger man with a glance of appraisal. Not one to be easily embarrassed, Kyungsoo felt unexpectedly flustered. Overwhelmed by his own confusing behavior, the boy blinked and hurriedly looked away just to reprimand himself seconds later; he had successfully shown weakness to the “enemy”, unable to look the man directly in the eye.

“Who are we to deny the weaker lot though, Mister Do? We shall drop the assumed celibacy now and fade into the evening dance similar to the moon evaporating into the dewy sunrise…”

“Sweet lord, Byun,” Kyungsoo exasperatedly interrupted his friend who had begun to verse on purpose, having precise knowledge of how much rhetorical prose annoyed him; Kyungsoo also found himself strangely pleased by the fact that Baekhyun had not noticed his poor exchange with Kim Jongin.

“Let’s go find us some lasses, mate. I want to dance,” eager Mr. Byun finished his train of thought without the unnecessary wording, a prepared saccharine smile for girls already plastered on his face. Kyungsoo found himself nodding absentmindedly as he involuntarily threw a stealthy look at the stage; the brooding man had disappeared.

The melodic sounds of pianoforte interchanged with ingratiating violins and flirting tunes of flutes, alternating and enveloping the dancers as the evening gradually passed into fresh summer night. Kyungsoo waltzed and danced the elaborate steps and changed partners, courteously inviting all of the girl friends he had known for years of growing up at the county along their side. Moments like those reminded him of the reason why he loved balls; it was the overall joviality of such events that he could never really relate with yet blend into without second guessing. Kyungsoo could never admit to enjoy socializing unlike Mr. Byun who had seemingly been created for the purpose of celebration and never ending festival, always managing to leave the ladies with their cheeks pink, hopeful for more of his attention.

As a timely reminder to that fact, Kyungsoo watched Baekhyun bow and leave another young girl breathless from giggles; the charming man’s gentle expression changed the second he laid eyes upon exhausted Kyungsoo, acquiring a sneer to which the other’s thin lips were accustomed so much more.

 _“Mon ami_ , you are getting very much older. How many dance pas has it been? A miserable few hundreds? And here you are sitting down like an old person, at the very start of the evening,” he poked sitting Kyungsoo in his cheek, laughing at the other’s laboured breathing. Kyungsoo swatted his hand away as if Byun was an annoying buzzing fly.

They bickered as they sat on the wooden corner bench hidden behind a formidable porcelain vase; Kyungsoo’s tirade on the obvious lack of necessity in Baekhyun’s never ending remarks got interrupted as two deep male voices whispered in the close vicinity to their corner. Baekhyun’s eyes acquired the usual wild flame as he avidly tried to catch every word for the purpose of future gossip.

“My friend, this evening is such an obvious success! I am having so much fun! I admit I have not talked to everybody but those who I have met seem truly amazing! The Do sisters, for a fact, are very agreeable parties,” Kyungsoo did not hesitate; he almost flew off the bench in his unashamed heist to see the talkers, so unexpectedly open in their discussion (he, too, wished to marry off at least few of his female siblings almost as much as his mother). He caught a fleeting glimpse of expensive suits of the men as few seconds had passed before his eyes grew large, and Baekhyun’s surprised sigh almost attracted the unnecessary attention; the two gentlemen were no other persons but highly respected Mr. Park Chanyeol and his guest Mr. Kim Jongin.

“You may be right, my friend, but they are not enough to tempt me. And their brother, Mister Do Kyungsoo… Alas, a barely tolerable young gentleman, I dare say,” out of the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo noticed Baekhyun’s complexion acquire a sallow colour as he raised eyebrows at the surprising words uttered by the other man. “But do not listen to me, please, do continue to have your fun, return your attention to the lasses, the lot of them may as well be despising me already for stealing you away…” Mr. Park Chanyeol nodded in a silent agreement and strode away, looking quite confused as to the exact reason why his friend had had a notion to bring up the Do’s brother in the discussion on women.

“Oh, I do believe girls should despise you for completely different reasons, what a peacock, you should throw down your glove at him, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun hotly whispered into frozen Kyungsoo’s ear, spitting saliva on the other’s cheek in his passionate disapproval of Mr. Kim, as they watched the poorly mannered man walk away from the scene into the depth of back rooms. He continued to scold him with quiet obscenities in the expressive French language, sounding exquisite even in his poorly contained rage.

Blood sprang to Kyungsoo’s cheeks. “Barely tolerable? Was there a single moment when we talked? Was I unconscious then? Barely tolerable, how?” Kyungsoo blinked in honest confusion, fisting the fabric of his breeches in an act of hopeless exasperation.

“I may know of the reason why that man seems so disdainful of here, I might have overheard that he owns half of the Insadong estate with 10 grand a year of income? Indeed, if those are no valid reasons to be arrogant, my friend…”

Kyungsoo had no patience left to spare as he turned to present Byun with a look of studious hatred. “Oh, _tais toi_ ,” he said simply, determinate as he raised and stomped away from his smart friend who only hummed in silent understanding, another one of his annoying smiles touching the corners of thin mouth.

“Barely tolerable, ah, we will see who the true barely tolerable person here is, I will make you regret ever uttering this kind of nonsense,” Kyungsoo spoke under his breath, the overwhelming feeling of scandal igniting a strange flame inside his heart; never before had he wanted to prove someone wrong as much as then. As he rounded the threshold of the ball room into the dimly lit corridor, tips of his fingers pressing into the wall as a needed source of guidance through his blinding angriness, a sudden touch against rough fabric of someone’s tailcoat startled him; immediately, he stepped away and bowed deeply, apologetic at the accidental breach of private space.

“Mister Do,” the male of a familiar deep voice stammered in surprise, and Kyungsoo looked up to see Mr. Kim Jongin, in his own person, seemingly flustered at seeing the other as if he had been expecting to be confronted by him then and there.  

“Mister Kim,” Kyungsoo stuttered in response, his animosity having disappeared into thin air, he felt the weird awkwardness as a heavy weight on his shoulders. They simply stared as if the two of them had caught each other red-handed at something questionable and both were in no place or time to wish to admit to their respective crimes.

“What a beautiful evening,” Mr. Kim suddenly croaked out, sounding forced, still looking at Kyungsoo with assumed vigilance, eyes either appraising or ogling, Kyungsoo could not tell; the exaggerated tone of his speech had woken the boy from his floating state and he could no longer contain the overwhelming wish to retort in a response to the other’s previous uncalled for insinuation.  

“I am afraid I cannot agree with you on this. _Barely tolerable_ is what I would say,” Kyungsoo’s practiced emotionless face was doing the rest of the required job; Mr. Kim Jongin looked absolutely stunned. “Now, please, do continue with whatever business you have been attending to _here_ , in the shadows, all on your own, as I shall return to my partner, she is definitely tired of expecting me now.”

And as Kyungsoo finished his precisely stressed monologue, he presented the other with a faux smile and turned to walk away, the triumph making his heart beat faster than ever before. As he strutted away, he missed the unexpected flustered blush ghosting over Kim Jongin’s cheeks, the man’s interested eyes closely following the rogue boy’s back.


End file.
